


A World Behind the Murder

by Clara_Verity



Category: Death Note, Death Note: Another Note
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dark, F/M, Gen, Horror, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-10
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 06:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Verity/pseuds/Clara_Verity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her kidnapping, a young girl strives to outsmart the dangerous man responsible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Greyhound

The Greyhound

My story began when I refused to take the plane.

It wasn't necessarily because I was afraid of heights—I mean, maybe, possibly, that's part of the reason, but it's definitely not the whole. Both my parents were running short on cash, and I knew taking the bus to Minneapolis from Indianapolis would be the best way to save money.

I didn't particularly like Greyhound—I would have preferred to take Amtrak, for personal reasons—but my mom bought me the tickets before I could argue. She didn't have a preference; she simply wanted to buy the tickets as quickly as possible in the case that all the buses going to Minneapolis the next day would somehow be sold out before we had a chance to look through all the options. That was just type of woman she was.

I had taken the bus up to Chicago a few times, so I knew the standards pretty well, as did my mom. My bus was scheduled to depart from the station in Indy around 5:15 the next evening, and it being December meant I'd be leaving and traveling during the night. I wasn't very much happy about that, but I was old enough at sixteen to be able to take care of myself. And my father was to pick me up in Minneapolis as soon as the bus arrived around 6:00 the next morning, so I trusted him to be there.

The next day, I arrived home from school as usual, and confirmed to my mom that I turned the school absence forms in, as I was required whenever I left for long periods of time. She made me some food to bring on the bus ride, and then we drove up to Indianapolis in silence. It was only after I had gotten on the bus that she started crying. A few minutes later, I saw her drive off, still weeping as she always did when I did something adult-like by myself. Despite my age, she always liked to treat me as a child, no matter how many times I tried to prove to her differently.

A few moments after she left, I began to relax, as I looked around the rest of the bus. It was then that I noticed something peculiar.

There was no one else on the bus. It was only me, and the driver. I checked my watch to see if I'd arrived early, but there was no mistake that I had gotten on exactly at the boarding time. The seat I had taken in the near-back overlooked the entirety of the bus, and the silence felt strange. I shivered, despite the heat blasting from the vents below my feet. Outside, the sun was beginning to set. I bit my lip, an old habit I'd picked up a few years before. I didn't really want to admit that I was nervous, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't.

Five minutes passed, and still, no one showed. I contemplated calling my mom to call everything off—if she knew no one was riding with me, she might have been less likely to let me go in the first place. But I decided to stand my ground anyway. I wasn't a coward. I could take care of myself, I thought.

Suddenly, I noticed someone board. My attention only turned towards the person after I heard the bus driver—a jolly-looking middle-aged man, with a beard and kind eyes—greet them.

I looked up and found myself staring at a strange, shadowed figure, walking down the center isle of the bus. And I say shadowed, because he literally looked like a shadow. He wore all black—black jacket, black jeans, black shoes. His face was covered by an oversized hood, and the only pieces of hair I could see were almost as black as his outfit, and sticking out from underneath. The man said nothing in response to the driver before he walked slowly towards the back, and then, I noticed something else strange about him.

He carried no luggage. None, whatsoever, and on a trip across the Midwest, for that matter. It would be one thing if the bus was only going halfway up the state, but it wasn't.

How could someone carry nothing on such a trip? Unless he had his things waiting for him at the final stop? What was he going to do for food, then? Eat at the transfer and other stops? What was he going to do to keep himself entertained? Twiddle his thumbs?

I didn't understand why I was wondering about this so much. Maybe it was because the day had been long so far and I was growing tired with the setting of the sun, despite the fact it was still so early. I was the type of person who grew crazy without sleep, and paranoia, in any form, was one of my worst symptoms.

I sighed as the man turned his head towards me, sharply, not stopping as he continued forward. He went back one seat behind me and sat down. Why, in this entire open large bus, he had to choose one of the seats closest to me, I didn't understand. But this man was odd, and it only made sense that his mannerisms would be odd as well.

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. Behind me, the man was completely silent. I couldn't even hear him breathe. Once again, I considered calling my mom, but the plan was stopped short when the driver started up the bus.

"Our first stop will be Lafayette," the driver spoke happily through the intercom, as the bus began to pull out of the station. I turned, wide-eyed, to face the window, and looked out and watched as we quickly left Indy behind.

There was no going back now.

 


	2. The Kiss

The Kiss

I have no idea how I managed to get myself into such a situation. For as long as I've been riding buses, I never had the issue of being trapped on a bus with a creepy man clad in solely black.

I always thought of the bus schedules being run like classes at school. If not enough people signed up for a specific class, it was canceled, and those who did sign up were transferred to something different, or at least, similar. This made more sense to me than a large traveling bus carrying only two people. The driver didn't seem to think it was strange, though. I could hear him in the front, passing by the time—whistling.

As far as I could tell, the man sitting behind me didn't move an inch for at least an hour. At 6:30, I checked my watch, and took out the dinner my mom had packed for me—a lonely, plain sandwich, and a chocolate bar. Not the best dinner, but I knew my dad was sure to take me out for breakfast after I arrived—if I was awake enough to go, that is.

I finished the sandwich quickly, feeling awkward about sitting right in front of the strange man. I had no way of knowing if he was looking at me or not, if he was watching me. I could have sworn that I felt his eyes burn a hole in the back of my seat, but, once again, I was tired, and growing swiftly more paranoid.

About twenty minutes after I ate, we stopped in Lafayette. I took the chance to call my mom, and to tell her that everything was fine. I lied and told her it was a full bus, just to help her feel better, and I thanked her for the food. Almost seconds after I had ended the conversation, the bus started up again. I was in the middle of sliding my phone back into my black backpack when I heard a voice whisper in my ear:

"Why did you lie?"

I froze, my hand still inside my backpack. I turned my head, slowly, to see the man staring at me with his hood down; his big, black eyes flashed with something strange, another color, another piece of him. I opened my mouth to respond but no words came out. My body shook. I was so, deathly, afraid of this man… And I barely even knew him.

Up front, the driver continued to whistle, oblivious. Finally, I managed to choke something out.

"I-I-I didn't want my mom t-to worry." I didn't normally stutter, but this man had that effect on me. I saw his pale lips upturn in a smile.

"I'm guessing you're young, then? A minor?"

This question was what sent a warning signal flaring in my head. However, I couldn't get myself to do anything about it. I couldn't get myself to tell him to go away, or to stand and complain to the driver, or to call my mom or 911 or scream or anything. I just sat there as frozen as a block of ice.

The man laughed. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. I was only wondering because of my sister. She has to ride the bus with me every time she wants to go somewhere far away from home because of her age, and so I was wondering if you are actually older than you look, or if the Greyhound system is simply lenient when it comes to age ."

His explanation made sense, but still, it felt weird. I was sixteen, yes, and technically a minor, but I was never mistaken for being younger than I really was. Most people believed me to be older, as a matter of fact, to the point where I was even offered wine in restaurants at times. But if what he was saying was true… Cautiously, I answered him. "I… I'm sixteen. I can ride on my own. But I used to ride on my own when I was fifteen, too, so I guess the bus line doesn't really care too much." It took all my energy to keep my voice steady.

The man nodded, and smiled again, before lying back against his seat. I faced forward and took a deep breath, telling myself to relax. There was nothing he could do during this ride that could hurt me, even with absolutely no one else around. A minute or so passed, and I thought he was going to let the conversation end at that. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"Are you going to Minneapolis too?" He had unzipped his jacket in the heat of the bus, revealing a long-sleeved black shirt. His rested his arms above the seat next to mine and stared down at me again with those large, cold eyes. Everything about him—the way he talked, the way he moved, the way he stared at me, it just seemed all wrong. I shrunk down in my jacket, still feeling frozen in more ways than one.

"Ah… Ah, yes…" I began to chew my lip rapidly. I saw his eyes turn to my lips before going back to my gaze. I took a deep breath and tried to let the stress and awkwardness of the situation go.

"Hmm, I see." He mimicked my habit with the lip biting, less in a mocking way and more in a searching way. "What's your name?"

Once again, there was that alarm. I knew not to give my name out to strangers. I knew not to even talk to strangers, too, but I had no idea how else to respond to this man. He watched my eyes flicker up to the bus driver, an amused look on his face, as if he knew he was making me uncomfortable and he found it funny.

"I… I'm sorry, but I don't feel like telling you." I said, trying to keep myself calm. The man smiled—no, smirked. I was starting to notice now that all of his smiles were more like sly smirks.

"Ryuzaki. Charmed." I gasped as he picked up my hand and kissed it, with ice cold lips. I quickly drew my hand away, blushing. I decided then that the next time he spoke to me I would talk with the driver, no matter how awkward it made me feel. But there was no need—after the kiss, the man sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, falling asleep in the dim light of the bus before even a minute had passed.

I believed then in that moment that I would never get to sleep that night. When my arrival finally would come the next morning, I'd be too tired to go out to breakfast, and I would simply go back to my father's bachelor condo and fall asleep, relieved to away from the man—Ryuzaki, as he called himself. Such a strange name…

But anyway, I was wrong. I fell asleep within the next fifteen minutes. Perhaps incidents such as my meeting with Ryuzaki could tire out a person more than you'd ever expect.

In my short sleep, I remember dreaming abeing being stuck in a castle tower, yards and yards above the slumbering forests of a forbidden kingdom at night. Suddenly, in the distance, I saw man riding a horse. He stopped and dismounted, before climbing up the ivy of my tower in that strange, murky reality that dreams held. The man reached my window, and I helped him in, grinning at my knight. I couldn't see his face, though, under his hood… And when I reached up to pull it down, I froze, wordless, as it was not the face of a dear night, but the face of Ryuzaki staring back at me.

"Charmed," he said, smiling his odd smirk, before leaning in for a kiss. Horrified, I screamed, and darkness quickly came before his lips could touch my own.

"Excuse me, miss?"

It was the bus driver. I was awake from the dream, and he was speaking to me through the intercom. When I looked out the window, I saw that we were only a few miles away from the station in Chicago—maybe about twenty minutes, tops, before we arrived. At the time, I barely even remembered the dream; it wouldn't be until later that the events would come back to me.

"Miss? We are five miles away from the transfer point, and I suggest you gather your things together."

I nodded, absent-mindedly. Behind me, Ryuzaki was awake again, and staring at me once more. I tried to shrug off his gaze as I made sure I left nothing sitting around the seats. I checked my watch once more and saw that I would have exactly forty minutes before the next bus would leave from the station. Hopefully, the certain next bus would have more people on it. With about ten minutes left until we reached the stop, I heard Ryuzaki speak up again.

"I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to go to Minneapolis."

I took a deep breath and thought about my promise to myself before, about talking to the driver the next time I was bothered. But we were almost to the station—I didn't think it would be worth it now. So I decided to try ignoring him.

It didn't work. "I might just stay in Chicago."

I turned my face slightly towards him, refusing to look at him straight. "Alright."

"I think I might visit my home here. I don't live there anymore, but… it might be interesting to look into once more."

Once again, I didn't allow myself to look into his eyes as I responded. "Really?"

He nodded. I tried to think up something to say that would end that conversation. "Well, maybe then you can take your sister with you if you decide to go to Minneapolis after all."

"Sister?" To my surprise, he chuckled. I turned at the laugh face, surprised at its sound. It didn't sound like any normal laugh I'd ever heard; it sounded… supernatural, almost. Just plain odd, like this man in general. My eyes accidentally met with his as I turned. They seemed brighter, almost, but not in the way that normal eyes grew bright. His smile showed his amusement—this smile didn't seem like his usual smirk. It was wide, and crazy, and creepy, and held the same almost animalistic brightness as his eyes. He tilted his head in what could almost pass as genuine confusion.

"Sister? I'm sorry. I don't have a sister."

 


	3. The Kidnapping

The Kidnapping

I guess you can say that I was more than excited to get myself off that bus. Ryuzaki was odd and frightening, being alone on the bus was horrid, and I just wanted the night to be over with.

It was around 8:45 when the bus finally pulled into the station. Ryuzaki waited behind me as I took my suitcase done from the overhead bin, although I thought nothing of it. I then slung my bag over my shoulders and started down the aisle, Ryuzaki as close as he could be.

Outside the windows, I could see the station, full of people. I sighed in relief. I really was going to be fine. I'd get on a busy bus, and there was even a chance that Ryuzaki wasn't going to Minneapolis at all. Smiling, I pushed my suitcase in front of me, and walked down the steps of the bus.

That was when things started to go wrong.

Maybe, if I hadn't been so clumsy, I may have been able to save myself. Nothing would have ever happened. But when I reached the bottom step, I was not so lucky, and before I knew it, I lost control of my bag as it smashed into the snow.

Angry with myself, I got out of the way of the door to the bus so Ryuzaki could pass, threw my backpack on the ground, and knelt down to pick up the suitcase and some of the things that had fallen out of the front pocket. A dark form bent down, too, and three guesses as to who it was.

"Thanks," I muttered, as he handed me a novel I had brought for the trip. I was just about to stand to leave when I suddenly felt his arm around me, dragging his black coat to cover my shoulders.

"Are you cold? Here." I was about to protest, shrug it off and walk away, when suddenly I felt something press into my back.

"W-w-what—" I was completely in shock. Nothing seemed to register in my head as the gun pushed deeper against me.

"Shh, don't be shy. Go on, take it." I nodded numbly and held on to the collar of the jacket, so it stayed propped up and in place, hiding the gun. He kept it forced against me; to anyone else around us, it would have looked very casual, as if he merely had his hand on my back. Like we were lovers, or something of the sort. I stood up shakily.

"Very good." I turned and saw his face, his smile, before he instructed me to put the jacket on entirely. Afraid of what would happen if I didn't, I followed his command, and zipped it up, too, just in case that's what he meant by entirely.

He nodded, still smiling, and pointed at the handle of the suitcase for me to grab. I did as I was told. Then, he grabbed my backpack and slung it over one shoulder. He led me down a dark alleyway, close by the station, and soon enough, we were gone before anyone even noticed us in the first place.

I was shaking so badly, it was a miracle I could even keep walking. I thought about screaming and risking getting shot, but the thought of dying was so horrid, and I didn't know if I could bring myself to do it. My breathing grew deep and shallow, to the point that my throat began to grow soar. My eyes strained against the darkness as I stumbled along. Once we reached the middle of the alleyway, he stopped me by reaching out his free arm and pulling on my shoulder. The entire time, the gun never left my back. I saw myself as doomed.

I couldn't see anything. The buildings we were in-between were so tall, and the rest of the city seemed so far away. It felt like we had been walking for hours; yet, I knew it could have only been minutes.

I heard the rustling of what sounded like a keychain. I turned my head and strained my eyes, but I could barely make out shapes, and perhaps that was why this terrible man, this Ryuzaki, if that really was his name—perhaps that was why he picked the alley. Or, maybe, this was where he lived. That wouldn't have surprised me too much.

I heard a key in a lock, the click of a door being opened, and soon, I was rushed into the building. I know there's some rule, something about trying to remember your surroundings if you are ever taken somewhere in a dangerous situation, but my eyes refused to work, and it was like I saw nothing, even when Ryuzaki did switch the lights on. Instead, I blinked at the bright fluorescent lighting, wavered for a moment, as it blinded me. Then, my already impaired vision began to blur, and suddenly, I hit the ground.

When I awoke, it was still night time. Or, maybe, I had slept through the entire day after fainting. Either was possible, and frankly, in my situation, it didn't really make a difference. And I remembered exactly my situation after awaking. But I wished I didn't. A moment of peace and confusion seemed a lot better than being thrust straight back into the horror story I'd somehow been sucked into.

The room I lay in was gray. Everything was gray—the walls, the ceiling, the floor, the window curtains. I looked down and even the bed I was lying on was gray, from the sheets to the pillows. I tested my arms and legs, making sure they still worked. Then I sat up to test to see if I was restrained in any way—I wasn't. As a matter of fact, I had been given pretty good accommodations. Despite the ugly color, the bed was comfy, and the sheets were warm. But none of that mattered, obviously.

Quickly, I jumped to a standing position, moaning from the head rush it gave me. I checked my body, still intact, with all its clothing. My watch was gone, however; and my shoes—plain flats I wore everywhere, even in the dead of winter—had been removed. My suitcase and backpack were nowhere to be seen. I walked across the creaky gray floorboards and tested the doorknob. It was locked, but I had been expecting that.

The windows were my next stop. There were two, on opposite sides of the room. The bed sat facing the door, and the only other piece of furniture was a dusty old dresser next to one of the windows, underneath a cracked mirror. I peered out of the window nearest the dresser and sighed, as my only view was of an alleyway far below, and a brick wall directly across. I felt lucky, though, because at least some light managed to filter in from a pair of creaky lanterns hanging on a stand across the way. I tried opening the window, to see if maybe there was any way to escape by that, but I could only get it budged open a few inches, and then it wouldn't close. I shivered as the cold winter air drifted into my room, but I had no way to undo it now.

Outside, I could hear a siren wailing on the streets as it passed. I sighed and knelt down on my knees, wondering how long it would take for the police to find me here. Or, how long I would be able to last before being killed. The thought made me begin to shake. And I had been holding up so well.

My composure wasn't too hard to keep, though. The shock had passed, and now, I was just trying to stay calm. I knew, however, that the minute I set my eyes on Ryuzaki again, I'd be back to how I was earlier.

My god, I wished I'd listened to myself… How I wished I had called my mother, while I had the chance… Now I was stuck in a dark, damp building with the creepiest man I'd ever met, and with barely any chance at all of escaping. But still. Even if I wasn't strong, I had to try to be strong, or at the very least pretend. If there was a chance, any chance, of escaping… I promised myself to take it, no matter what.

Slowly, I began to rest my head against the dirty frame of the window, repeating that new mantra under my breath. "I will take that chance, no matter what. I will take that chance, no matter what."

I didn't hear or see him come until he was right in front of me.

I screamed. I couldn't help it. In my mind, I smashed all I had said about being strong. There was no pretending with him around… But… I had to try…

Ryuzaki looked slightly different now. He still had that air of wildness, of insanity… But he looked less contained, more free. As if before he was simply the wild dog pretending to be a domestic animal. And now, that he was free in his own territory, there was no holding back.

He knelt down quickly and placed a hand over my mouth, his eyes flashing. In the dark, now, I could see that flash of color, once more, only more prominent. A bloody red that seemed to dance along the black of his irises. When he retracted his hand, I closed my mouth, silently searching over his figure for any sign of the gun he had earlier. I barely had time before I heard him say, in a voice with less of the fake kindness from earlier, "Stand."

I did as I was told, and he stood, too. We stared at each other, locked in that invisible embrace of gazes; me searching his eyes, and him searching mine. He took hold of my shoulders and turned me towards the window.

"What do you see?" He asked. I blinked and tried to look past the dust and cracks. I didn't know necessarily what he meant. I saw myself, covered in dirt, and slightly bruised from the fall I had taken earlier. I saw my dirty blond hair now ratted and tangled; my mom would have called it a bird's nest. I saw my green eyes staring back at me, rimmed in red. Had I been crying, in my sleep, maybe? Or was I crying earlier while he pushed me along the alleyway and I just didn't remember?

I saw my clothing—my jacket had been removed and now the only thing I wore was my high school t-shirt and a pair of jeans. And I saw Ryuzaki, behind me, his black hair a mess and dark circles surrounding his eyes. I tried not to stare at him for too long; it only made my heart beat fast with horror. But I furrowed my brow, trying to understand why he wanted me to look in the mirror…

_Oh._  My breath caught in my throat as I noticed what he was referring to.

"I… I see you pointing a gun at my head."

So he did have the gun after all. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping to be back on the bus again, waking up from a bad dream, but when I opened them once more, I was still there. And Ryuzaki was smiling back at me through the reflection.

"Exactly. Now lie down on the bed."

"…Wha… What?" It had crossed my mind that this might be what he wanted from me. It had crossed my mind, even when we were back on the bus! But now, in the position, I was so afraid I couldn't even move.

"I said, now lie down on the bed."

He pressed the gun harder against my head, more threateningly, if that was even possible. I moved quickly.

He laughed, still pointing the gun at me, but not following me. It was that strange laugh again, the one that made me want to shiver. I stared up at his lean and tall form as he stared down at me, and for some reason, the most inappropriate-for-the-situation thought snuck its way into my head.

I couldn't help but think that this man was actually handsome. Exceptionally handsome. Everything about him, from his hair to his form, would have been attractive to me, had it not been for the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips. I couldn't tell how old he was—but he didn't seem any older than twenty-one, or twenty-two—or, any younger than eighteen or nineteen. These thoughts came and went quicker than it took him to draw closer to me, still laughing, still smiling, until he was only a few inches away. I shrank back as much as I could, given I was lying down.

It's interesting, the feelings humans have for each other. The fact that I could find this man attractive yet entirely repulsive at the same time was a strange contradiction.

"What am I doing now?" He asked, his voice dropped down to a less-commanding whisper. I tried to lick my lips, but my mouth was completely dry.

"You're… you're still pointing a gun at my head."

"Threatening you, then?"

I nodded.

"I'm going to ask you another few questions, my dear, and please try to answer then honestly. I'll be able to tell if your answers aren't true."

There was a pause as he studied me. I tried not to move.

"Now, my dear. Do you think you're faster than me?"

_Huh?_  I wasn't quite expecting that question from him, but then again, he was hardly a predictable man. I shook my head.

"No." And it was true. Through his shirt and jeans, I couldn't tell if he was muscular or not, but I was the slowest runner on the track team last year, so I assumed that he was probably faster than me even if he didn't have any muscle.

"Do you think you're stronger than me?"

Again, I assumed no, because I hadn't exercised in months, and never even attempted to be strong, as to tell the truth I didn't enjoy working out that much.

"And do you think you're smarter than me?"

I paused on that one.  _Did_  I think I could outsmart him? This was where I began to question it. Just from the way this man held himself, from his actions, and from even just his glance, I could tell he was intelligent. A genius, even. He managed to outsmart me already so far, by managing to kidnap me in even such a crowded place as that bus station. However, I hadn't been prepared, or even entirely expecting something of the sort to happen. I was considered one of the best in my class back home. I was on the honor roll, and on my way to becoming valedictorian. Books smarts and street smarts are completely different things, though, and this certainly seemed more like a street smarts situation. Either way, even if I could outsmart someone awful like this man, it wouldn't exactly do any good for me to say so. I shook my head.

"No," Came my quiet reply.

He grinned. "Had to think about that one, huh?" He looked as if he was about to kill me then, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, he pulled the gun away from me and began to study it.

"So. I see we have an understanding. You cannot run from me, for you are not as fast as me. You cannot fight me, for you are not as strong as me. And you cannot trick me, for you are not as smart as me."

I widened my eyes in surprise and horror, when he lifted the gun back up and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. No bullet was shot. His eyes seemed to stroke over the gun in curiosity, before he turned to laugh at my fear-filled face.

"And so, I don't need a gun to threaten you, my dear." He tossed the useless thing on the ground. "The threat does not lie in the weapon. But." He slid his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a switchblade, his eyes shining lustfully as he watched it open up. "Just in case you need a little reinforcement."

Ryuzaki leaned forward and flicked me with the knife; not deep or hard enough to cause me too much pain, but just enough to make my skin bleed. I felt something wet on my cheeks and I realized I was crying.

He left the room then without another word. I turned to my side and finally let my feelings and fears spill out. What felt like hours later, I was still crying, and it was light outside, but the tears still kept coming. It felt like they would never stop.

 


End file.
